Ancient Blood
by Gabriella F
Summary: The Ancients, an archaic humanoid race were fighting a brutal war against the Obsidian. A strange, mysterious power sprung up within the Ancient army, a power not fully understandable to the Ancients, but graspable to The Wise One, the leader of the Ancients' army. While at war with each other, some of the ancient races stretched their power to the limit, spawning the Evils...
1. Chapter 1 - Prologue

**A/N- An idea that I had in mind to write this has been bothering me for some time, until I just brought myself to write it out. The story will go on into about 4 or 5 chapter atleast, since I'm still working on my main Castle fanfic. Leave a review if you like it so far!**

** Also, I was listening to Dream Evil - The Chosen One while writing the prologue.**

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Eons ago, in a parallel dimension…

The Ancients, an archaic humanoid race were fighting a brutal war against an opposing race known as the Obsidian. Eye color was plausibly the main reason for the army's warring; the Obsidian's eye color was black, so many believed the color was meant for evil, death, and denial, as were the Obsidians. Any other eye color that opposed black belonged to the Ancients' army.

The leader of the Ancients' army was known as "The Wise One", and he was chosen as leader for he did not have one eye color, but multiple. His eye color would change depending on his emotion. The Wise One hand-selected three Ancients from his own army to be part of a group called the Stoneguards. The Stoneguards' purpose was to help support the army in combat and tactics in The Wise One's absence.

Three Ancients consisted of the Stoneguards. An Ancient with red eyes, known as Sagaciter. Another with green eyes, known as Serpo. Another with brown eyes, known as Gladius. The Wise One never gave his real name, and the purpose for it remains unknown.

The Wise One's army held a psychic power, given to them by The Wise One to fight the Obsidian army. They held this power inside an orb, kept safe inside the altar of their fortress, known as the Castle. Three Castles were built as war fortresses for the warring ancient races.

The Wise One possessed two books, both of their purposes unclear to the Ancients, and only fathomable to the Wise One.

All the Ancients knew was that the Obsidians must all be massacred to save themselves from their own resource war. The Ancients believed the Obsidians were the cause of their lack of resources. This locked both races in combat.

The Ancients and Obsidians were at war.

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** - Not sure why, but I'm doubting the names I've given them. Most of them have an Elder Scrolls-type feel to it, while the Stoneguard's names were latin-translated. Leave a review if you think anything should be removed/altered/etc.**


	2. Chapter 2 - Assault

**Author's Note~ First chapter released... and I'm loosing motivation in Castle fanfics for some reason. I really don't want to abandon anything, but I have this bad habit of starting projects I usually don't finish.**

**Anyway, this chapter has a bit of an elder-scrolls type of feeling to it - I played skyrim for an hour or so before working on the story. Please review for new chapters.**

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The Wise One stood on the front end of the army of Ancients, waiting for the Obsidian army to arrive. Snowflakes fell from the sky like white feathers, blanketing the ground below their feet with ice. The chilling air produced a layer of frost on The Wise One's studded armor. His breath was vaporized in the air, and the ice numbed his sensations. He wasn't even able to feel the steel, iron-laced armor's weight on his shoulders, or the cutlass, tip-hooked sword wielded in his tight grip. The whipping winds flogged against his face, producing a layer of Goosebumps rising on his skin, despite the fur matted under his armor.

The resource war between the Obsidian and the Ancients created an effect of vast, ashen expanses of mountains and massive breadths of seas. It all happened to fast for The Wise One to register. But the Ancients believed that the Obsidian were the cause for it. They and their evil, deathlike black eyes were the cause of these dark times.

The Wise One's eye color turned to a fusing light blue, almost grey, judging by his ice-cold sensations that altered his emotion. His eyes raked through the mist, just able to make out the vast, seemingly endless silhouette of the Obsidian army, racing across the frost-covered ground, leaving behind a path of soil. Their black eyes seemed to slice through all the distraction, as if hunting for them. The Wise One could feel the Ancient army behind him tense up. _From which Hell do these demons rise from?_

The weapons wielded in their hands caught the weak sunlight through the slightly parted clouds, seeming to glow with vivacity. The Wise One shut out any panicky thoughts and focused on his psychic power. He could feel the Ancient army's power behind him lighting up, preparing for battle. The Obsidian army didn't have the psychic power as The Ancients, or The Wise One, so every battle they had between them, The Ancients would call their own victory.

The Wise One's eyes lit up with a white glow as he raised his sword and howled a battle cry. The others behind attained inspiration and screamed along, following The Wise One's lead.

The sound of thousands of running and thudding footsteps roared against The Wise One's ears, like a great ocean wave racing towards the shore. He was surprised when his body was moving on command; a few more minutes standing in this hell of ice, and he'd be frozen solid.  
The armies drew closer and closer, and The Wise One's heart beat just as fast. The leading Obsidian of the Obsidian army was just a few feet away from him before The Wise One threw up his sword in a position for attack.

The two armies crashed into each other, the spray of blood gushing out into the air and the sound of echoing war cried resonating through the battlefield. The Wise One brutally fought his way through the Obsidian, his sword leaving behind a white trail in the air. He needed to find his way to the Castle, where his comrades had the two books waiting to be given to him.

An Obsidian charged at him, swinging his sword lethally at The Wise One's head. The Wise One sprang from its swath, countering the attacks with several explosive blows of his own. With a brutal arc of his sword, he severed the lower half of the Obsidian's neck, detaching the head from its shoulders. Blood sprayed on the icy battleground, painting the frost with crimson liquid.

On a crouch, The Wise One gripped the heavy sword tighter and charged back into the mass of fighting silhouettes, hacking and slashing his way through, clearing a path of his own to get to the Castle.

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Two Ancient guards standing on either side of the large, double-door wooden gateways shut the gates behind The Wise One as he entered, blocking any remainder of the Obsidian army out. The faint sound of brutal war cries echoed off the stone walls as The Wise One unlaced the leather strips of his studded armor and tugged it off, grimacing at the blood and gore that stained the steel surface. He set them on a long stone table along with his weapons to be scoured of the blood. A long, seemingly endless line of bloody armor lined the tables, and for a moment, The Wise One felt a sliver of empathy for the few people who had to clean it all. Then it hit him. _The gathering has already begun! _He needed to get to the altar before the meeting was called off seconds before he burst through the doors.

He made his way to the altar room, where he hoped the rest of his brethren would still be waiting for him. On his way, he threw on a black robe handed to him by a waiting Ancient by the archway on the opposite side of the bride. He crossed a second bridge inside a massive circular tower. The bridge divided a line of large ancient cloaked, hooded statues. The Wise One stopped next to one standing beside another that led outside to another bridge. His eye color materialized into a dark blue with veneration as he kneeled before it and muttered something in the Ancient language under his breath.

He made his way across the second bridge and stood before the archway that led to the altar room. He pulled his cowl over his head and let himself inside.

A crowd of more than one hundred Ancients formed a circle around three hooded figures he couldn't see clearly. He squeezed his way through the crowd of Ancients, making his way to the center of the crowd. A large stone pyramid towered in the center of the altar, a black orb resting at the peak of it. The whole tower was packed with cloaked, hooded Ancient men and women warriors. Weapons were never allowed inside the altar room, as the tower was a sacred sanctuary to them, the atmosphere around it holding a majestic aura. A set of eight archways circled the outer perimeter of the altar room.

"_Where is he? The Wise One was supposed to be back here a long time ago, was he not_?" A gruff, tense voice with a rough edge at the center of the circle snapped in the Ancient language.

"You mustn't strain things that need no concern," A faded voice answered with a Canadian accent. "The Wise One stated he was going to need more time to come back. An Obsidian army was in the way to get to the castle, and it won't take a short time to fight through them."

A wiry, almost British accent joined in. "It has been too long. The Obsidian are planning their next move even as we speak, and we haven't even begun a battle plan. We need The Wise One here, and we need him here now."

The Wise One squeezed his way through the crowd of Ancients and joined his comrades. He'd heard enough to know he was incredibly late. "If you thought I was taking my time to get here, that army almost ripped ours to pieces. We lost 200 brethren."

Sagaciter paid little attention to what The Wise One was saying and set his gaze on the empty stone table between them. "We drew out and threw out countless battle plans in your absence. None seem to top our previous ones."

The Wise One hunched over the table, finding it better to draw a battle than to sit and argue. "The Obsidian are regrouping in isolated areas in the North." The Wise One waved his hand over the table, and glowing dents began to etch themselves into the stone, creating an image of a black colored eye on the front end of the table. "We are in the East and still unprepared, giving the Obsidian an advantage." An image of a green eye engraved itself on the right side of the stone table, a glowing emerald light emitting from the edges.

"What about the Black River?" Gladius pointed to the center of the two eyes as a picture of a black river carved it's way through the stone. It was the main source of water for the Ancients and Obsidian, but the effects of the war caused the water to become murky and tainted with oil, earning it the name "Black River".

The Wise One took in what Gladius was pointing out. "The Black River can lend us the upper hand in slowing down the army's attack path, but they will be too close to the Castle to_—_" The Wise One stopped listening.  
A distinct, opposing presence he hadn't sensed before filled it's way up to the brim of the altar room. It was as if a knife sliced through the air, mentally stabbing his forethoughts. The air crackled and flexed with an unwanted presence. _Someone shouldn't be here._

The Wise One's eyes raked through the crowd of Ancients, searching for something that might be out of place.  
"What is it_?_" Serpo asked before The Wise One signaled him to be quiet.

His eyes turned to the peak of the altar.

A hooded Ancient was kneeling down, locking his hands one the black orb. He must've sensed the Wise One's eyes being trained on him, because he returned the gaze with black eyes.  
The Wise One's blood turned to ice. "_Obsidian!_" He shouted.

All eight archways around the altar room burst open, and countless Obsidian stormed the altar room.  
"_We've been fooled! Protect the power, brethren!_" The Wise One instinctively reached for his sword slung across his shoulder blades. Instead, his hand grasped air. He remembered weapons weren't allowed in the altar room.

He swore under his breathe and focused on his psychic power, summoning a wave of adrenaline and raw power through his veins. His eyes held a violent white glow as he made his way up the altar to catch and kill the Obsidian that took the orb.

The Obsidian that raided the altar each wielded a sword, war-axe, battle-hammer, or some other medieval weapon. An unearthly, crisp spark of sapphire burned in a matrix of patterns on the weapons, indicating that they were using the Ancient's weapons. Going back to the weaponries tower was no longer an option. They would have to fight, raw psychic power versus iron armor and weapons.

By the time The Wise One reached the peak of the altar, every last drop of the power was drained form the orb, now inside the wrong hands of an Obsidian. The Obsidian's head whirled up to face The Wise One as he slowed to a stop. The Obsidian tucked the orb away and drew his black sword and shield. The Wise One willed forth his psychic power and thrust his hand out, creating a sphere of light. They circled each other, knees bent, ready to spring.  
"Put that back where it belongs, _Wench_. You're playing with a fire you cannot wield."

The Obsidian watched him with dark eyes through the shadow of his black hood. "Your kind never deserved this power in the first place. It's time to take what is rightfully ours!" The Obsidian lunged with his sword plunged forward before The Wise One leaped out of the way to dodge the sudden attack. The Obsidian staggered to his knees from the dive and The Wise One took this as an advantage. He shoved his hands forward and a spark of magnetic white energy burst from his palms and towards the Obsidian.

The Obsidian threw his hands out and wall of light fabricated between them, blocking the attack and shattering their power on impact.  
"So you think you can know a few basic power and it can change anything?" The Wise One spat with a sharp tone of abhorrence and irritation. The Obsidian clenched his jaw to keep his panic leveled and focused his attention to the blade of his ebony sword. A small flame sparked at the tip of the blade before it ruptured into an afterglow of white blaze. Light traced the surface of the blade like a hot glowing black coal. He then turned his attention to The Wise One and viciously stabbing his thoughts with his own, breaking down his defenses. The Wise One fought back, but the Obsidian absorbed all the remaining power in the orb. He was far stronger than any Ancient in the altar.

The Obsidian beat down the mental impulses firing to and from The Wise One's thoughts and held him in place, freezing his muscles and powers. He then plunged his sword forward and stabbed The Wise One, lodging the sword in his chest. The sudden impact of pain made him jolt out of his apathy. He clenched his teeth and glared at the enraptured black blade deeply wedged in his chest. He curled his hands around the hilt, trying to dislodge the sword. He glared into the eyes of the Obsidian with hate and torment.

The Obsidian kicked The Wise One's knee, forcing him to stagger and fall before he turned and ran, grabbing the orb as he did. He shouted to his brethren in the Obsidian language. "!rof emac ew tahw evah eW !kcab llaF"  
The fighting ceased to a slow halt and the Obsidian warriors drew back, running through the archways and out of the altar room. The Ancients would've followed them, but they were missing direct orders from The Wise One, who was still on top of the altar.


	3. Chapter 3 - Conquest

The Wise One clenched his teeth as his vision seesawed in and out of focus. His eye color seared with an ashen gray. Crimson blood ran down his chest where the black sword was impaled. It was impossible to draw breath. He lay on his back at the peak of the altar, glaring angrily at the shed of light from above as he tried to find a way to stop the Obsidian from using the Ancient's power. But first he needed to get this sword out of his heart.

He indistinctly heard the Stoneguards ordering shouts in the Ancient language from below the altar, and echoing footsteps ran up the gray pyramid. The Wise One grabbed hold of the hilt of the black sword and yanked it out. Blood spurted from the open wound as he held back the yell. Instinctively, the whites of his eyes began to glow an unearthly white light and a trace of raw power spiraled around his body. White flames enfolded the hole in his chest, mending the sword wound.  
Gladius trudged up the altar and stopped short as he saw The Wise One slam a black sword against the stone floor in rage. A bleeding wound in his chest tore open his upper torso before it began to close up with the white embers, and bleeding slowed to a stop.

Once The Wise One healed himself, he staggered to his feet and whacked aside Gladius' extended hand, making his way down the altar. "Have we any Obsidian hostages?" His voice was rough with ire.  
"N… No," Gladius followed him down the altar. "They took the orb and the power, but we might have an idea of where they're headed."  
"Then send an army. Send our top warriors! _We can't let them use that power_!" The Wise One made it to the bottom of the altar room and called the rest of the Stoneguards to regroup. "Those Obsidian called a war upon themselves if they abuse it. I want to see that power back in the altar, and I want to see three to four thousand dead Obsidian bodies at my feet!" His grey eyes turned to a russet red with a touch of gold in his rage. He turned to the red-eyed Stoneguard. "Sagaciter, gather our leading warriors and bring me an Obsidian hostage. Alive. Once they plan what to do with the power, we will have an advantage."

He set his gaze on the green-eyed Ancient. "Serpo, invade the Obsidian fortress, but remain unseen. With infiltration skills such as yours, we may have a chance of getting back what was ours."  
The Wise One turned to the brown-eyed Ancient. "Gladius will stay by my side behind our walls. Our army here alone won't be enough to survive a second possible assault.  
"You all know your obligations. Let's kill these Obsidian for what they've done."

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The Obsidian that first swiped the power and seemingly killed The Wise One was immediately declared commander by the Obsidian. He was codenamed, Mortem, the Latin translation for death, for they wished to drop death on the Ancients. Mortem was seemingly a god to the Obsidian, a leader to get the Obsidian through the war and defeat the Ancients for the hell they've put them through. Now that they thought The Wise One was dead, their plans were to storm the rest of the Ancients' ranks and take them out. Without a leader, they were vulnerable.  
Mortem climbed the stone staircase and placed the black orb on the pedestal resting atop. He whirled around to face the crowd of Obsidian and extended his arms in victory. "Fortune smiles on our effort! The Ancients will soon be defeated and torn down from their repulsive arrogance," Mortem lowered his arms and circled the black orb, as if interrogating it. "Without their power, they are helpless! After seeing our full army of mentally and psychically powered Obsidian, they will surrender and bow before us like dogs!"

A confused murmur of questions rose up from within the crowd of Obsidian, bringing a smirk to Mortem's face. "The power will be shared among each of our brethren. Once we have ultimate power, we will plan our attack on the Ancients' kingdom. Blood will stain the walls for what they've done to us!"

Grasping the orb, he raised it in the air, bringing a loud mass of brutal cheering from the crowd. With a macabre smile rising on Mortem's face, he forced his full willpower into the orb, and it radiated a bright white light, as if a burning white ember was lit from within it. He felt sudden surges of raw power streaming from the sphere, through his arms, and coursing through his veins. He tilted his head up to light shedding from above as he let the raw power torrent through his system.

But something went wrong.  
The deep warmth of power intensified to a searing hot vigor. Mortem let out a rough cry and dropped the artifact. It felt like boiling lava was being poured into his bones. The orb struck the ground, but didn't break. Mortem fell to his knees, and then face down on the floor as he blacked out. The light was still erupting from the sphere, and it enveloped the entire room with a layer of untainted silver glare.

The crowd of Obsidian were confused and disoriented for a second before they began panicking and running for the only exit, which was barricaded off for safety reasons.  
The light filtered in through every corner of the room.

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Serpo decided to travel to the enemy Castle alone; if he brought an army with him—even a guard—he could attract unwanted attention. He ducked behind every large rock and plateau in sight to stay hidden as the enemy Castle loomed into view. He crept towards it, his black cloak fluttering behind him. He wore iron silver-laced armor beneath his cloak just in case something surprised him with a weapon.  
Once he made it to the gates, he fished through the folds of his cloak for his lock pick, but the door slightly creaked open by itself for him. He eyed the door cautiously for a minute before parting it open a little more. He peered inside the empty chamber. A staircase that led to nothing stood tall in the center of the room, and the orb was sitting atop it.

Serpo didn't move; it was just too easy. He was torn between running inside, grabbing the power and getting out; returning to base for a back-up plan; and slowly moving in without being noticed. He knew he had to decide on one, since going back to base with an infuriated superior was out of the question.

Serpo creaked the door open a little more to let himself in and it closed behind him, producing a loud thudding echo that resonated throughout the chamber. He froze in his blood when he thought he was done for.  
When nothing unusual happened, he made his way to the staircase. He ascended up the stairs, not realizing he was holding his breath until he let it out. The orb loomed into view, and he froze several feet away from it, as if afraid that touching it would set him aflame. Every cell in his body was screaming danger at him. Something was wrong; this was too easy.

He thought the best decision was to gran the orb and get out. He kneeled down to lock his hands on the orb, but footsteps resounded behind him. He jumped to his feet and whirled around to face the cloaked Obsidian that had unknowingly ascended the stairs after him. A trace of swirling white light churned around his hands.

Four more footsteps sounded from all around the staircase and the back-up Obsidian had Serpo surrounded in a matter of seconds. Each of them had an unearthly glowing that lingered beneath the surface of their black eyes, and their hands seemed to be set aflame by the piercing light spiraling around them.

Serpo unsheathed his sword and summoned a wave of raw power coursing from his veins to the weapon. It gleamed with an ethereal glow. "FIGHT ME, BASTARDS!"  
The five Obsidian wordlessly raised their palms at Serpo, and a blinding light that exploded around his vision was the last image he saw.

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Three weeks later

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The Wise One paced the altar room back and forth in exasperation, his black cloak wavering behind him. Neither Serpo, nor Sagaciter had returned from the assigned missions, and this was unusual behavior, even for top-ranked Stoneguards. His impatience was wearing thin as the days passed. Gladius stayed in the Castle to defend if there was ever an attack.

He was about to make his way to grab a jug of wine to drown out the apprehension when a familiar red-eyed Ancient burst through the Altar doors. Sagaciter wasted no time explaining what took so long at got to the point. He leaned into his ear and whispered something. The Wise One's eyed widened as he faced him. "Well, what are you waiting for? Bring him in!"

Two Ancient guards burst through the towering double-doors, hauling someone with them. The caught Obsidian's wrists were bound by shackles with a cloth bag tied over his head. The two guards forced him to his knees before The Wise One's feet.  
One of the two Ancient guards unfolded a hand, revealing a spiraling ball of light. "We found him lurking in the courtyard with very much power rolling off him like a stench. It seems every Obsidian in existence now wields the power."

The Wise One took in the information before kneeling to the Obsidian's level and tugging off the cloth bag. The Obsidian's face was too beat up for him to recognize. Blood dribbled down his mouth and nose and his left eye was swollen shut. Even so, he bared his teeth at The Wise One.  
The Wise One ignored the Obsidian's macabre attempt at playing warrior. "Who is leading your army?"  
The Obsidian glared at him with dark eyes.  
"I think you misunderstood me. _Who. Is. Leading. You?_" He spoke each syllable separately, each word coming closer to a warning.  
"You were intended to be dead, were you not?" The Obsidian spat instead of an apposite response.  
The Wise One didn't respond to this remark. It seemed that word had gotten out about The Wise One's assassination attempt. If the Obsidian army thought he was dead, an advantage was gleaming right before him.  
He shook the thoughts from his head and continued. "If you have one slice of the power, where are you hiding the rest?"

To The Wise One's dismay, The Obsidian smiled, dark and dangerous. "_Hiding_ is such an unsuitable word. The power is everywhere. Every Obsidian you'll ever face wields it inside themselves. You've lost this war, Wise One."  
The Wise One felt his anger double up to the point of fury. He summoned his psychic power to his hands and the whites of his eyes glowed white with a silver glare. "Who is leading you and where is he?"

The Obsidian's smile grew wider and his hooded eyes were barricaded of the truth.  
"Ok. I have my own ways of getting answers." The Wise One's hands were still glowing as he grabbed the back of the Obsidian's neck. A striking wave of pain and nausea fluttered through the Obsidian as his eyes, mouth, and ears emitted a gleaming light, as if lit from inside his skull.

The sharp ringing in his ears drowned out his screams.

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**A/N- Chapter 2 finished! I might actually get this story done! I chose the superior of the Obsidian's name to be Mortem, since it's translated to Latin :3 Leave a review?**


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